Userhat – The Scribe

I awake just before the sun rises, and I can already hear my wife Mutnofret bustling around, scolding the children. Morning for me usually involves a panic about my reed brushes. They are NEVER where I last put them. After searching everywhere, my wife points out that they are tucked behind my ear... Ah – yes. There they are. Again. I check their condition and find that one is slightly frayed – no doubt from my nervous grip yesterday. The Chief Scribe had come to see how I was getting on teaching the students how to write “the script of the gods”. I had flashbacks to when I was 5-years-old, being scolded for holding the reed heavy-handedly. If my students think I am strict, they should have seen my teacher! My ungrateful students do not appreciate the opportunity they have – to read and write is a rare privilege! It’s better than working outside as a stonemason in the harsh wind or in the heat of a coppersmith’s workshop! Their fingers are like crocodiles, and they stink more than fish eggs! I thank the gods every day that I am not one of them. Instead, we scribes walk the corridors of power, mingling with the privileged and making connections. Yes, there is a lot of paperwork, and yes, I am at the bottom rung of the administration, but how else would I have managed to get the best artist in the country to agree to decorate my tomb? Well, that said – I have done all the hard work for him in preparing all the texts. I do hope he copies out my beautifully written biography attentively.

It’s painful to watch the students mangle the script – so many smudges, crooked signs and missed details! It’s no wonder we teach them on gesso writing boards and potsherds; otherwise, there would be no papyrus left in all of Egypt for their mistakes! I correct every fault, over and over again. I will make them love books more than their mothers! A quote from Dua-Khety – the finest advice ever given. “No! Don’t stab the board like that! You’re holding the reed like a strangled goose!” – Simpleton… he won’t stand a chance when we get onto learning hieratic…

I can feel my knees aching from sitting in the traditional pose – knees crossed beneath me, back upright, and my palette balanced before me – but I do make such a great silhouette. I think this evening, I might take my chariot out for a spin. My wife was furious when she found out how much I had spent on it, but she now agrees that it has definitely elevated our status – you know – “keeping up with the Djoser’s” and all... It might even put me in good stead for that promotion! Despite that, I do believe that it is writing which makes a man remembered, long after his body has perished to dust… that’s what makes it all worth it – that someone in the future will unroll a scroll I wrote, and admire my neat hand and remember my name.